The day job
by planet p
Summary: AU; an eventful day in an uneventful town.


**The day job** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.

**Author's Notes** AU, OC-centric. Written in 2007.

* * *

_2007_

Callie gazed upward. The sky was heavy with clouds and dark. No stars out tonight. She stood, arms crossed, braced against the brittle winter gusts in her clear plastic raincoat. Her mother stood to her left and her best friend to her right, the two girls huddled together.

Chelsea leant across and whispered into Callie's mother's ear and the two women turned and looked back toward the parking lot out front of the cemetery. Callie shot a glace in that direction. She quickly spotted what had drawn their attention. Ignacia made her way toward the gathering, Lyle half a step behind.

Callie averted her gaze at the twisting in her stomach. The whole thing gave her the creeps. Her mother had organised the little get together in remembrance of some dead boy she had gone to school with. A few years back the FBI had rolled into town with their pretty cars and theories on this and theories on that, only that when they left, everyone knew that Robert Joseph Bowman was a very bad person. The boy's name was James. Jim, Jimmy. Ivy, Callie's mother, told her they had been friends, Bobby and Jimmy. And Ignacia, Tag Along Ignacia, mouth full of metal and too fat and too tanned.

The late afternoon chilled Callie through her pullover and raincoat, the two girls with their hands held. Callie watched as Ignacia paused a few paces back from the circle, Lyle at her side. Callie noted the earphones and wondered what he was listening to. She tapped a Tic-Tac into her palm, popped it in her mouth, and took another out and just held it in her hand. She dropped the packet back into her pocket. Callie shot Lyle a glower out of the corner of her black-grey eyes. He ignored her, kept his gaze fixed ahead. She pelted her Tic-Tac in his direction. He was being disrespectful, her mother would have said so too.

Ivy moved to the fore, turning to appraise all at the gathering, some twenty-three people. Callie turned back to the front, didn't get to see if she hit him after all. Her mother was talking about Jimmy and how he would surely have made a brilliant lawyer had he gotten that far, how he had been planning to go to law school, what a good person he had been inside, and what a horrible horrible misfortune it was, the way things had worked out, an utter tragedy. She asked everyone to light their candles and please be careful as hot wax could burn. She said a prayer for Jimmy and then asked the procession to join her in a repeat. They did, echoing the words of Callie's mother. Amanda leant in closer to her friend, candle shaking in her hand. She was a slight thing. Callie draped an arm around her back and hugged her close. Other people stepped forward and said a few words about Jimmy. No one spoke about Bobby.

Dusk had worn away into night and darkness had set in. At last, the gathering stood around for a one minute silence in memory of Jimmy. Lightning stole across the sky, under the cover of clouds, a burning streak across the sky, and the sky opened up. Rain poured down just as Ivy was thanking everyone for their attendance. People squealed and yowled and ran for their cars, scolded by the water.

Ivy and Chelsea said nothing to their old classmate as they passed her on their way to their respective cars. Callie turned her face away in case she catch that idiot boy's gaze. She hugged Amanda and they ran for the parking lot. As she approached the gates, she flicked her hair back, chancing a glance backward. She squinted and faintly made out Ignacia and Lyle, standing alone in the rain. Ignacia moved forward and knelt down before the newish headstone, placing a hand on the black polished stone, smooth and cold and streaming with water around her fingers.

Her mother called to her and Callie hugged her friend and promised to ring her when she got home. She got into her mother's new car, the light on for the heater, and huddled into the seat, hugging her arms across her chest. From within the confines of the car, it was too dark to see much outside but that which the headlights fell on or the lights of the other cars as they moved off.

Ivy stopped before they got to the bitumen and sighed heavily, smacking the heel of her palm on the steering wheel.

"Mom?"

Ivy shook her head. "Why does she do this?"

Callie frowned, confused. What was her mother talking about?

Ivy turned the car around, indicators staining the muddy gravel orange. She pulled up in front of the cemetery gates and just sat, her eyes closed. "Stay in the car, honey."

Callie opened her mouth to protest as her mother pushed the door wide and slammed it again behind her. Her words remained unspoken. She watched her mother walk away from the car at a brisk pace, the in car lights dimming to dark. She waited a few moments before she had had enough. She jumped out of the car and pelted after her mother. "Mom!" Her voice was lost over the hum of falling rain. "Mom," she yelled. She caught the older woman up and reached out a hand to touch her arm.

Ivy paused and turned half. She grimaced reprovingly and sighed in resignation. The girl was too headstrong. Callie fell into step behind her mother.

Lyle was knelt beside the headstone, arms around a sobbing Ignacia, her head buried in his shoulder. Ivy closed her eyes in exasperation. Callie started at the thought of how jealous she was of Ignacia at that moment. The woman was upset. She was being petty. She didn't even _like_ the boy. She hated him! What an idiot thing to think, she scolded herself.

Ivy moved forward and stopped in front to one side of the woman. Lyle encouraged Ignacia to her feet and Ivy took her into her arms. "It's time to go home now, Ignacia." Ivy led the hunched woman toward the parked car, Callie and Lyle following. Callie glanced briefly across at the boy and caught him watching her. She shot him a significant glare. He looked away.

* * *

Ivy set a mug of hot tea before Ignacia. The mug made a dull chink upon the tablecloth, solid wood beneath. Callie finished up making the hot chocolate and moved around the kitchen table, taking up on the opposite side to Ignacia. She handed a mug to Lyle, her mother having asked her – quietly – to make the boy a drink also. Begrudgingly, she obeyed. "Thanks," Lyle muttered, not looking at her.

She shrugged, staring down into her drink. Her father wasn't home yet. She worried. "Mom guilt-tripped me. Thank her," she replied dismissively.

He said nothing.

Ivy drove Ignacia and Lyle home afterward. Callie watched the car disappear from her bedroom window, staring into darkness for a long while before remembering her promise to Amanda. She trailed off to the kitchen and swiped the cordless phone off the kitchen counter. She punched in Amanda's number. Chelsea picked up on the fourth ring and she asked to speak to Amanda.

Lyle had hardly touched his drink. Callie walked to the kitchen sink. She held the phone between her ear and her shoulder and poured the now cold drink down the drain, and laughed at something Amanda had said.

* * *

Callie gazed at her _Employee of the Month_ picture, framed and all. Amanda stood beside her. Lyle frowned at their prim little uniforms, Callie with black hair and Amanda with light brown. He moved out from behind his register and across the vinyl flooring. "Hey?"

Callie spun around and grimaced disgustedly. That was no way to address a young lady. Besides, Amanda and she were older than him by one whole year. Twen-ty-two! She guffawed. "I'm sorry, did you just speak?" she asked snobbishly. Amanda grinned at her elbow.

Lyle ignored her little jibe as though she were a petulant little child. "Yeah, I did."

Callie smiled falsely, her yellow-grey eyes full with gloating. "Oh. And?"

"Don't chuck stuff at me." He shook his head. "I don't like it."

Callie shrugged. "Whatever!"

He turned and walked away, back to his register.

The two girls leant in to each other and snickered.

* * *

The bell above the door tinkled and Ivy stepped into Ignacia's corner store. Ignacia looked up from the counter and didn't say anything. Ivy went to the counter. "How are you today?" she asked firmly.

Ignacia looked away from her.

Ivy sighed. "Look, Ignacia- We're here. We're all here." She slapped a business card down – her husband's, from the police station – and scribbled her call phone number on the back.

Ignacia ignored the card.

"If you need anything," she tapped her index finger on the card and left it at that, taking her leave of the store, the newspaper stand still with three copies of the current _Blue Cove Bonanza_. Ivy had looked it up at the local library in Addison, a half-hour's drive away. Blue Cove was a fairly sized township in Delaware. It made her wonder.

* * *

**1974**

_Ivy watched the boy from the road, one foot on the road, still on her bike. He had the prettiest eyes, all big and blue, and an ever so beautiful complexion. As a younger girl she remembered being jealous, but her jealousy had run out, as all things did, sometime. Hot summer winds spiralled past her ankles and flies bugged her. She swatted them from her eyes and mouth, faintly annoyed._

_Ivy watched and tried to think what he was up to, because Bobby was always up to something. His fingernails were chewed again and grubby underneath. They had been Friday. It was Saturday. They would be still._

_He sat by the rail line, knees drawn into his chest, face all hidden under all that untidy half curled hair. She remembered how very special his curls had been as a small boy, his beautiful long lashes reminding her of a porcelain doll her mother had gotten from her own grandmother. Someday that doll would go to Ivy's daughter._

_She stepped clear of her bike and wheeled it to the roadside and dumped it down there with a clatter of metal spokes and plastic reflectors. She knew how Bobby liked to listen to things. Saturday, the hairdresser's Elsie Bowman worked at over the weekday shut up. Saturday, Ignacia had her appointment with the doctor out of town. Ivy had heard her going on about it to Bobby and Jimmy just yesterday, in the schoolyard. It was her stupid braces. She was going to get Bobby and Jimmy both something from the department store, but she couldn't tell them what because it was a surprise. Saturday, Bobby's father was home from interstate. Ivy supposed he would have gotten back, Friday, late. Saturday, Bobby spent afternoons at his Grandpa Joe's farm. But it was morning and it was only 9:20, according to the wristwatch she had gotten from her parents last Christmas._

_Ivy held up her hand to wave and dropped it limply to her side once more. Bobby wasn't looking, he wouldn't see. She cleared her throat. She wanted to say something, but what would she say. She thought of a few things, but decided they would sound rude and far too nosy. Janine, the R.E. instructor, she remembered from her primary days, had forever told her her nosiness would only end in her own hurt. She thought Janine was a bit mean, but never said so, because their whole class thought it, just never said it. It was a secret they shared. Chelsea and her still laughed about it hot afternoons._

_His fingernails were bit so they bled. Elsie had put a sticky plaster over them, but Ivy could still tell. She wondered why the boy bit his fingers so much. She wanted to smack him when she saw that he had done it._

_Coby said he heard it was a nervous condition. Chelsea said that all that boy talked was a whole load of rot. Ivy didn't care either way. It was a disgusting habit. Her gran always said._

"_Bobby?"_

_The boy's head snapped up, and he burst into a horrible peel of giggles, causing Ivy to step back. Bobby was creepy sometimes. The boy dropped his face into his knees, in an attempt to ignore the girl stood before him. She was no business of his and he was no business of hers._

_Ivy watched the boy for a moment, seriously considering a nice set of cuss words and stalking away. Leave him be with his perfect glumness. His hands shook grasping his knees, in utter disregard to the escalating heat. Ivy frowned. Was he sick? But he was hot, wasn't he? His arms were shiny with sweat._

_She folded her arms across her chest. He was just an idiot._

_She stood and watched him a while longer. Her legs starting on in the beginnings of protest, she took up beside the boy, her legs crossed. She glanced across at Bobby. "I'm going to Cutter's just now. You wanna come?"_

_She had seen Bobby there a few times before, just a few times. With Jimmy, or Jimmy and Ignacia._

_She got to her feet, brushing off the back of her shorts, bits of dry snapped grass coming off on her sticky sweaty hands. Bobby stood beside her, a little unsteady on his feet from all that sitting down._

_Ivy snorted. The boy needed a good clean haircut. Jimmy always had a neat haircut._

_Ivy picked her bike up off the ground and pushed it beside her. Bobby laughed. Ivy turned to him a moment. "What?" But he wouldn't stop laughing. She smacked him in the shoulder. He was brain dead!_

_Bobby spun around in circles, his arms held out the way scarecrows held their straw and stick arms, and giggled, stumbling over his feet. Ivy thought about shoving him on his face, at least she would get a laugh. By the time they had reached the main street he had fortunately shut up, some time ago, Ivy gauged. He counted his steps and played hopscotch, swinging around this pole here and that pole there. He smacked into one and laughed. Ivy cursed her bad luck for landing herself in consort with a boy who was likes blind drunk or blind stoned or both._

_Ivy left her bike in the bike stand out front of Cutter's and shuddered. People were going to think her crazy. She went in beside, pushing the plastic straps aside in her wake and waited for Bobby to follow._

_Bobby went with her up to the counter. Ivy rolled her eyes. This had to be the worst day of her entire life! She ordered two Cokes and a bowl of chips. Bobby clapped his hands enthusiastically. He liked chips. He liked chips a lot. He just didn't like bowls so much. And he told Ivy so. She gave him the oddest look that only made him laugh all the more._

_They took a table by the glass front and Bobby flopped down and smacked his head on the table top. Ivy winced at the thud. Bobby's laughter ceased and Ivy wondered if he was dead. But he was still breathing, so he can't have been. He shivered. Ivy looked away across the room. A girl brought over their drinks and came back a second time with their bowl of chips._

_Bobby drank his Coke as though it was water and choked on the bubbles. Ivy laughed raucously. When they had finished their drinks Ivy ordered another round. Bobby crunched on a chip and then choked on that too. Ivy smacked him on the back and shook her head, laughing. They had another coke and Ivy got Bobby some cotton candy because she asked him if he had had it before and he replied that he had not. It was a horrid blue. She got him some jelly racing cars, pineapples and a few other sweets in a paper bag and they walked down the street with Ivy's bike._

_They sat down on the merry-go-round in the park with the sandbox and digger and monkey bars. Bobby pushed the merry-go-round round with his shoes. Ivy thought about Jimmy. He's daddy was the local doctor up at the clinic, only doctor in Misery. It was something of an achievement to be the son of the town's only doctor._

_Bobby lay back on the merry-go-round and watched the sky. Ivy nicked one of the lollies she had gotten Bobby in the first place, a milk bottle, and popped it in her mouth._

_Bobby sniffed and sat up. Ivy shot him a questioning glance._

_He jumped off the merry-go-round and ran off to be sick._

_Ivy pushed the merry-go-round a little faster, chewing on another milk bottle._

_Bobby plonked himself down on the hot metal, head leant against the support bar. Ivy chewed another lolly. "You sick?"_

_Bobby refrained from answering._

"_Your daddy would be agro if he got word."_

_Bobby snorted._

_Ivy laughed, incredulous. "And what's that supposed to mean?"_

_Bobby closed his eyes. "It don't mean nothing. You're right."_

_Ivy grinned. She knew she was._

_Bobby laughed again and Ivy was thinking that she would tell him off, only that he looked almost sad. He smacked his face into his hands and laughed and laughed. He rubbed his hands across his cheeks, a little red now, and stood. "I'll take you home."_

_Ivy sniggered._

_Bobby rode her home on her bike. She sat on the handlebars and screamed when they took a corner. Ivy wheeled her bike up to the front of the house and went inside. She leant against the screen door and was glad that was over._

* * *

Amanda read romance. She was such a big fan. She sat in her room out back, a window to the porch, canaries swinging by her window in their little wire cages, singing. Callie and her would sit together on her big double bed for one little growing girl and read together. Amanda liked Western romances, with cowboys and Indians and vagabonds.

Callie laughed and pushed her friend in the arm. "He's such a loser!" The two girls made the sign of an 'L' with their index finger and thumb and pressed their hands to their forehead, chorusing in unison: "Loser!"

"Hey, God, wasn't that just so freaking creepy the other night!" Amanda exclaimed, and went on, without awaiting an answer. "Anyway, I asked mom if she really went to school with this psycho killer boy, and she said 'yes'. So then, I was like: 'Was he cute?'"

Callie jostled her friend. "Well? Was he?"

Amanda frowned seriously, widening her eyes. "No, really, LiLi. This is so freaking creepy!"

Callie chuckled at her friend's change of mood. "What?"

"Mom showed me this picture she had." She shook her head. "It was, like, some… school… thing…"

"Aaaaand?"

"Psycho killer boy-"

Callie snorted and shoved her again. "That's not his name. It's Bobby. _Bobby B_."

Amanda frowned. "Callie, that is so freaking! Could you, like, not say his name?"

Callie shrugged, nonchalant. "Whatever."

Amanda managed a small smile. She pulled a book out from under her pillow, flipped to the picture her mother had shown her. It was a class portrait, 1977.

Callie laughed hysterically. "Oh my God! My mom has the dumbest hairdo!"

Amanda snorted. "Oh God! Lame-O! Mine has the same! They're, like, clones or something? Ewww!"

Callie ran her finger along the line of names, listing the rows and who stood where. "James Hooper." She counted along and pointed. "Oh my God! Dead boy!"

Amanda shot her a ridiculous expression. She pointed to another name.

Callie read the name out loud. "Robert Bowman." She grinned. "_Bobby B._"

Amanda cringed. "LiLi!"

Callie tossed her head jokingly and grinned again. "_Psycho Killer Boy_," she teased her friend.

Amanda expression clearly told her she thought she was being pathetic and she didn't think it was funny.

The two girls counted across the row together, reading out the names for each person. "Abra Ambie. Gail Crewson. Ignacia Sanchez. Robert Bowman."

They took their fingers away and squinted down at the seventeen, eighteen year old. Callie screamed. Amanda screamed because her friend was screaming. They dropped the sheet of paper and ran from the room.

* * *

Callie and Amanda watched Lyle from their registers. He was stocking some shelf. Callie looked across at her friend. It was too creepy!

* * *

Lyle rested his head on the desk. They were borrowed from the high school, for meetings and stuff. Ignacia held a meeting every moth at the public hall. Lyle was about the only other person to come. People didn't take her leaflets either, unless they were from out of town, and then they just thought that she was some sort of crazy woman.

Ignacia owned a general store, this new big supermarket was putting her out of business, her and a lot of other folk, she wagered. They couldn't complete with those big city corporations. But she wasn't giving up. It was her right to be allowed to express her opinion, and if they didn't like that, they would just have to arrest her and see how much more publicity that got her cause.

The papers didn't print her letters anymore. She figured it was time to take this one step further. She needed to get arrested and she needed to get on the news. But how to do that?

The meeting was a flop. They had been sitting around for an hour and a half and, as usual, no one had come, not one single person. Ignacia looked around the hall one last time before helping herself to a lamington. "These aren't from _that shop_, are they?" she asked through a mouthful of lamington.

"No," the boy replied in a muffled voice, head still on the table.

Ignacia shook her head. "This isn't still about that thing the other day, is it?"

"No."

She took another lamington, although she hadn't finished her first. Just in case. "These are nice. Did you make them?"

"Yes."

Ignacia nodded. "I didn't know you could cook?"

Lyle snorted. "Well I don't go around eating people's lawns."

Ignacia nodded again. "Mood boint!"

The boy lifted his head up off the desk and looked across at her as though disturbed. "What?"

"Mood boint."

Lyle blinked. Either she was speaking some little known dialect of Spanish or he was really dumb or she was speaking gibberish.

She finished her two lamingtons. "Good point!" she told him loudly.

He blinked again, uncomprehending.

She clicked her fingers. "You were saying that you," she put on a gruff voice in imitation of the boy, "'don't go around eating people's lawns' and I said," she nodded, "'Good point'."

Lyle shook his head. "Right, yeah."

"Do you know what I think?" Ignacia asked no one in particular, because she didn't stop to await an answer. "I think we need major media publicity, and I'm talking about television here."

Lyle snorted.

"We should get arrested."

Lyle snorted again, smacking a hand over his mouth.

Ignacia took a third lamington. "I'm deadly serious."

The boy shook his head.

* * *

"Ignacia, you'll have to leave now," the Store Manager told the woman dressed in a faded print tee shirt and faded denim dungarees.

Callie and Amanda snorted. Crazy Ignacia really knew how to dress to impress! She was handing leaflets out again, only this time she had come inside the store and was holding customers up at the turnstile, bugging them with her leaflets and her speeches.

"Ignacia, you're only making this more difficult for yourself. I don't want to have to call the authorities to have you escorted off the premises, but I will if I have to."

Lyle rushed over to talk her out of anything stupid. "Ignacia?"

"Go back and hide behind your register. You wouldn't want to lose your _fantastic_ job now would you?"

Lyle opened his mouth to protest but Ignacia turned away and went right on ignoring him.

She stomped off outside and began sticking leaflets to the glass front with a spray can.

The Manager ducked into his office and phoned the police station.

Coby Howl came with a squad car and flashing lights. Ignacia was starting to like this idea already.

An officer came over with Coby, apparently wanting to talk to her. "Now, Ignacia," Coby began. She zoned out. "I want you to be reasonable here. We're all adults and we all know how to be sensible. I want you to think about what you're just doing here."

Ignacia turned to him with a disgusted look. "I know what I'm doing." She turned away again, sticking up more leaflets so that a square an arm's length across of the glass front was blocked by paper of various colours.

The younger officer took the leaflets from Ignacia, who just took them back.

"Well now, no," Coby exclaimed. "Ignacia, this is ridiculous!" He took the leaflets from her. "You are not having this paper back."

Ignacia crossed her arms and scowled. "That's mine! You can't take that from me!"

Coby grimaced. "I think you'll find I just have." He sighed. "There's no need for this public nuisance, Ignacia. Nobody is doing anything to you."

Ignacia growled. "This- This-" She couldn't bring herself to say the name, she hated them that much, just the sound of the name alone disgusted her, "Corporation is taking my business away from me!" she shot contemptuously. "My customers! That _is_ hurting me! And others too! Not just me!" She snorted. "You don't think _we_ need money to eat and pay the bills? But we can't compete with this- this- Complete and utter lies! Not one thing decent about them! They buy everything off shore! Ripping those poor people off because nobody could care less! Taking the business away from our local producers! De-skilling our people! Factories are shut down! Farms! People can't do anything these days because big fucking corporations like _this one_ decide they want us to be powerless and at their mercy. We're just fodder! Animals! ANIMALS TO THE SLAUGHTER! AND WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPY ABOUT THAT, BECAUSE WE'VE GOT SUCH A GREAT FUCKING WORLD!"

Coby took Ignacia by the arms. Ignacia struggled, kneed him in the groin, and pushed him off of her and ran to the police car. She took the megaphone from the boot, keys from the ignition, the younger officer staying back to help his partner up, afraid the woman might knee him too. She got up on the car roof and broadcast her speech from there.

She had Coby's gun and she knew how to use one, and anyone who tried to approach her, she told them she was going to shoot them.

"Fuck it! Just fuck it!" Coby swore loudly. How in the hell had the woman gotten his gun?

Inside the store, Callie and Amanda squealed and dropped to the floor, frightened the crazy woman might shoot them.

Coby couldn't even ring for back-up, and if he or his partner moved, she said she was going to shoot them, and if she saw anyone else try to ring the cops, she would shoot Coby and his young partner.

Lyle smacked his head on the counter, but that just gave him a sore head.

* * *

Callie and Amanda watched the crazy woman on the news and snickered, and then they went quiet to listen to their own interviews about how terrified they were and how terrified Callie was because Sheriff Howl was her daddy and that crazy woman had threatened to shoot him. They snickered again.

* * *

Nothing was really made of it. Ignacia was given three days jail time and released. She was ill in the head. That was the story.

Of course, Ignacia hadn't really known how to use a gun, she hadn't even taken the safety off. Coby joked with his wife that he thought she hadn't even realised the damn thing had a safety. Ivy didn't find the thought funny nor consoling. Coby was her husband, and Callie still needed her father. Besides, Ignacia wasn't well. They should have been supporting her. And mental illness wasn't amusing. It was a horrible thing to happen to someone, but that didn't mean they weren't still human, somewhere, inside. But Ignacia wasn't mentally ill, despite what the press had said. Just desperate, and desperate people did stupid things. All people did stupid things at one time in their lives.

Ivy sighed heavily.

* * *

Callie glared across at Lyle's register, empty. If he was late like this again he was going to be fired, or maybe even today. Punctuality was vital in business and industry. Things only ran smoothly because of punctuality and reliability and that boy was far too irresponsible to be either, Callie thought.

Amanda came dashing down on of the aisles all in a hurry. She bounded up to Callie and screamed. Callie took a step back. "He's gone! He's gone!" she screamed. "He's gone!"

"Who's gone?" Callie asked, bored.

"Lyle!" Amanda gushed. "Transferred! Gone!"

Callie scowled, crossing her arms. "Gone where?"

Amanda's face fell. She shrugged. She didn't know. She screamed again. "Gone!"

Callie grinned, joining in on her friend's enthusiasm. Pity really! Now she had no one to piff Tic-Tacs at.

* * *

"And how was your day, honey?" Ivy asked her daughter.

Callie shrugged. "The loser got transferred!"

"Who, honey?"

"The l- Lyle."

"Lyle?"

Callie nodded. "He's such a loser," she said in exasperation.

"Lyle? From the supermarket?"

Callie snorted. "Dah, mum."

"That boy with the…" she waved her finger about her face. "Blue eyes?"

Callie shrugged. "I guess…"

Ivy put the washed dishes on the draining board. "Where was his transfer to? Anywhere exciting?"

Callie shrugged again.

"You don't know."

"No, mom. Why would I shrug like some big idiot if I knew?"

Ivy sighed, watching her daughter dry a plate.

* * *

"I could- I could see about finding out for you," Chelsea told the phone.

Amanda watched her mother with a frown. "Find out what for who mom?" she asked when her mother had hung up.

Chelsea tissed. "It's nothing, Ama."

Amanda shook her head. "Of course it's something mom. You're doing that avoiding the issue thing again."

"Look, Ama, it's just- I have an interview in the morning." She moved around her daughter and left the kitchen.

"But you-"

"A job interview. I don't plan on washing dishes at Delilah my entire life!"

Amanda scowled. Since when?

* * *

"Some Blue Cod," Chelsea told her friend, Ivy.

"Blue Cod?" Ivy asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, up in Delaware."

"Blue Cove? Blue Cove? Was it Blue Cove?" Ivy rushed.

Chelsea shrugged. "Could have."

"Well?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Ivy shook her head. "I don't need a maybe. I need a yes or a no."

"Yes. Yes! Blue Cove. Okay. Yes."

Ivy swore. "Shit!"

Chelsea's shoulders fell. She turned away fro her canaries. "What?"

"Blue Cove. Blue Cove has something to do with Bobby. Why else would Ignacia have that stupid paper in her store? The _Blue Cove Bulletin_ or something?"

"Bobby?" Chelsea snorted. Ivy was absolutely mad!

"I feel bad, Chelsea. I feel bad because we never once- He was the youngest. We should have- We should have been better to him."

Chelsea sniggered.

"That's the truth, Chelsea."

"What is all this about?" Chelsea asked finally.

"That boy- That boy's gone to that Blue Cove place."

Chelsea huffed. "And?"

Ivy widened her eyes. "That man! I just remembered the other night. That doctor. He was from Delaware. Do you remember the plates? They were Delaware plates. When Ignacia told us about how she nearly totalled that shiny new car?"

Chelsea shrugged, not recalling, and sat down on the sofa, the two having made their way through to the lounge.

"Jimmy let Ignacia drive his pick-up and she hadn't even got the thing started when she nearly reversed over that guy's car."

"Oh, yeah, right. I remember Jimmy going on about the two of them never coming in his pick-up again. They were dangerous. Didn't Bobby grab the wheel and them they rolled over some picnic table instead and Jimmy was pissed about his car, something about his car?"

"Yeah."

"So? So what? What doctor?"

"The one that came to see Bobby about his autism and some attention disorder he had."

"I never heard that one."

Ivy huffed. "Jimmy told us. His father told him because he was Bobby's doctor and he didn't like Jimmy hanging around a boy with problems like that."

"He didn't tell me."

"You were pissed, Chelsea."

Chelsea frowned. "Right."

"You chucked on Jimmy, don't you remember?"

Chelsea frowned disgustedly. "Ewww. No."

"Well you did."

"So what?"

"So he was a creep."

"Bobby was always a creep."

"Not- That doctor."

"Oh, I remember him. He was creepy."

Ivy took the bottle off scotch of her friend. "Look, Chelsea, what are you drinking this for anyway."

Chelsea hiccupped. "You know that guy I told you about? The one from Addison? The jerk dumped me!"

Ivy hugged her friend. "I'll bust him for possession of marijuana."

Chelsea hiccupped again. "But I don't think he has," hic, "marra-waar-nuh."

Ivy placed a hand on her arm reassuringly. "No, but I do." She sighed. "The problem is, I don't like that doctor, and I don't like that boy being anywhere near where that doctor might be."

"We- Wh-why do you care where that b-boy is?"

"Because I do."

Chelsea snorted. "Because he looks a little bit like Bobby?"

Ivy huffed. "We have to look after him, Chelsea."

"You might feel bad, V, but I just feel sick."

Ivy sighed and helped her friend up and out into the kitchen and over to the sink. "That'll be the alcohol."

Chelsea grabbed the sink to support herself.

"Did I tell you about the time Bobby got drunk?"

Chelsea moaned something incomprehensible and was sick. She turned the tap on. "Tell me about the time Bobby got drunk."

"I didn't tell you?"

"No, dummy. Beside, Bobby didn't drink alcohol. Jimmy reckoned he had that die thing."

"Die thing?"

"Yeah."

"What die thing, Chelsea?"

"Die… thing."

"Diabetes, mom. And you haven't got diabetes, you're just drunk!"

The two women started at the intrusion but by the time Ivy had turned around Amanda was gone again. She would have a word with Amanda when Chelsea was feeling a little less sick. The girl was probably mad at her mother for being so pathetic.

"Bobby had diabetes?"

"Jimmy said so."

"So he did?"

"That's what Jimmy said."

Ivy shook her head. Chelsea was having a really bad day and hers wasn't turning out any better.


End file.
